At first the experts disbelieved, and then they prophesied that it could not last.

Finally, the active period of envy, hatred, and malice gave way to a sullen tolerance not unmixed with an indefinite grudge towards Fortune who had favoured the brave once more.
Maurice Gordon was in daily expectation of news from that far-off favoured spot they vaguely called the Plateau.

And Jocelyn did not pretend to conceal from herself the hope that filled her whole being--the hope that Jack Meredith might bring the news in person.
Instead, came Victor Durnovo.
He came upon her one evening when she was walking slowly home from a mild tea-party at the house of a missionary.

Hearing footsteps on the sandy soil, she turned, and found herself face to face with Durnovo.
"Ah!" she exclaimed, and her voice thrilled with some emotion which he did not understand.

"Ah, it is you!" "Yes," he said, holding her hand a little longer than was necessary.